


Kampf Der Liebe

by ariapassionflower01



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: A moment of potenial non/con, Fight Sex, Hair-pulling, M/M, Makeup Sex, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1211020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariapassionflower01/pseuds/ariapassionflower01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I've given my life to this.” Tom went on in a lower tone. “I've given everything to you. I followed your dreams, I followed your heart, and...” He sought for words, hardly able to explain himself, before he cut of the sentence in return for another, “I want just one day where I don't have to hide who I am and who I love.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kampf Der Liebe

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure all you wonderful, amazing Aliens already know this but the literal translation of "Kampf Der Liebe" is the FIGHT for love not the PAIN of love. I wrote this with the German translation in mind because I feel that it has a slightly different meaning. Please check out this beautiful version if you haven't already;)))))

If there was one thing that Tom hated about show business, it was the meetings, the endless board meetings – producers droning on and on about promotion, demographics, sales, etc. It was all the same shit, just a different day.  
The wall across from him was white and plain. He had noticed that it was more of a creamy white in the whole ten minutes he had been staring at it. His arms were crossed and he was sure that his eyes were about to go in the same direction if he had to listen to any more statistics or sales projections.   
“Look, we've really gotta make this good.” Hoffman was speaking, the head honcho himself, but Tom could hardly bring himself to listen. “They're calling it a 'comeback'.”   
“Its not a comeback.” Bill's irritated tone cut into the conversation. “We've simply taken our time to make the best album possible.”  
“Yes, but its different and we need the fans to accept that.”  
“We're stating that today in the press conference.” Bill returned. “Our fans are loyal. I'm certain that we have nothing to worry about. If anything, I think the new sound could draw in even more.”  
“He's right.” David Jost's even voice joined in. “I've been with these boys long enough to know what kind of magic they work.” He chuckled softly.   
“Watch who you're calling a boy, Jost.” Georg laughed from the opposite side of the table.  
“All right, the point is, we need to make a splash.” Another producer added, waving his hands.   
And so it went. It all seemed to drag out endlessly because Tom knew what was coming at the very end of the meeting, the part when Georg and Gustav left the room. He could sense it was coming although no one had alluded to it quite yet. It was simply a feeling that warned Tom that he should brace himself.  
Accordingly, Tom did not even begin to rise from the table when the meeting was adjourned.   
“Bill, Tom, a word?” Hoffman asked, amiably.   
Bill paused, halfway out of his chair. He glanced over at Tom quickly, his light, brown eyes widening slightly before he rearranged himself and sank back to the chair with a pleasant smile. “Of course.”  
The door shut behind Georg and Gustav and silence settled over the room. Tom's eyes caught Jost's and he could see the uneasiness lying there. He decided to cut past the awkwardness right then, and held up a hand, “I know what this is about.”  
“Do you?”   
“No PDA right?” Tom asked, his tone biting.  
“Tom.” Bill reprimanded in a murmur, reaching over a hand to grasp at Tom's wrist.   
“I've heard it all before.” Tom snapped, pulling his arm from Bill's grasp. “Teenage girls demographic... we can't have people assuming, blah, blah, blah.”  
“Tom, we're simply asking for a professional appearance,” Jost began, obviously trying to ease the tension in the room.   
“Professional.” Tom repeated, leveling his gaze at older man. “We do what we want, Jost. We said that from the fucking beginning.”  
“You're not just a teenie rock band anymore, Kaulitz.” Hoffman snapped, his face reddening. “You're international artists, and you'll damn well act like one.” He pointed a finger, narrowing his eyes. “You boys may work magic, but we're the ones who host the circus, all right?”  
“I see how it is.” Tom nearly rose out of his chair, but Bill grabbed his arm again.   
“Stop.” He ordered, sounding shaken. “Stop.” He repeated in a quieter tone. Everyone sank back to their chairs and there was a moment so silence before Bill stated calmly, “If you're worried about our appearance tonight, don't be. We'll be as professional as you like.” He smiled, but it was forced, and Tom could see the strain in his eyes.   
“Good.” Hoffman smiled. “Have a nice day, gentleman.”  
It was a dismissal, a final end to the meeting. Tom jumped out of his chair and stalked towards the door with Bill trailing after him.   
They stepped out into the hallway and Bill immediately tried to speak to him.   
“Tom, please... What were you thinking?”  
“What was I thinking?” Tom spun about. “I am sick and tired of this, Bill! We took a break and I thought I could get over the strain of everyone watching our every single move and dissecting our lives! I thought I could live with hiding this.. us, but...” He threw up his hands, watching as his twin's expression crumbled, feeling his own insides do the same.   
“I don't know what to say, Tom.” Bill whispered, his voice thin.   
“I've given my life to this.” Tom went on in a lower tone. “I've given everything to you. I followed your dreams, I followed your heart, and...” He sought for words, hardly able to explain himself, before he cut of the sentence in return for another, “I want just one day where I don't have to hide who I am and who I love.”  
“I'm sorry.” Bill whispered, shook his head. “It can't be like that.”  
The door opened, catching both of their attention. Jost stepped out, his expression grim. He shut the door behind him and studied their tense faces. “I talked them down.” He said at last, before eying Tom with a glare, “You make my job ten times harder when you blow up like that.”  
“Well, excuse me.” Tom spat sarcastically, “Why don't you try on my life for size sometime, Jost.”  
“Your life.” Jost returned. “Your life is great, Tom. You're got everything and appreciate nothing.”  
Tom gaped at Jost, grasping for some kind of retort to the blatant insult.   
“I think we should go.” Bill advised. “We have the press conference tonight.”  
“Look,” Jost said, his tone more even now, “I'm sorry it has to be like this, I really am. I have tried my best to keep a cover for you two going on three years now and...” He looked away, running a hand through his short, brown hair. “None of us have it easy.”  
There was silence in the hall before Bill murmured a thanks to Jost and grabbed Tom's arm. As they stepped out into the daylight, Tom wanted nothing more to hold Bill's hand.

~

Three years was a short amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but to Tom it seemed like an eternity.   
In the beginning, it had been exciting, and hiding the truth hadn't been such a task. They had agreed that no one should know of their taboo relationship, and they had gone to great measures to cover their secret from family, friends, and most importantly, the public eye.  
Bill had been the forbidden fruit and Tom had not been able to resist. Sneaking into his hotel rooms at night or catching him in a moment of solitude had been hot and exhilarating for a seventeen year old boy and the high had lasted for about a year. After that, the hard part came – accepting the truth about love – that it wasn't always easy, and you actually had to work for it. The first fight came and went, and then a dozen more, but Tom had always refused to give up. Bill wasn't only his lover, he was also his twin. No matter what happened between them, Tom could never completely flush Bill out of his system – he was inexplicably entwined inside him, a part of him that refused to let go, a piece of him that could not be removed.   
After that it became harder to hide the truth. They always had moments of weakness where one of them would thoughtlessly reach out to touch the other. It had been terrifying when Jost discovered them, but much to the twins' relief he had agreed to keep their dirty, little secret. In fact, he was a sort of inside man, planting wrong information inside the other producers heads, and telling lies to the public to guarantee their safety. It had been Jost's brilliance to create such wildly different personas of the two of them – Tom, the playboy, and Bill, the virgin. They kept everyone fooled with Tom's sexual escapades and Bill's true love quotes, unless one dared to look closer.   
It was hard, however, to live a lie, and Tom was becoming weary of it. He awoke every day knowing that he was going to have to put his mask firmly in place, and some days he wanted to rip away the facade – fuck publicity, fuck the band, fuck popular opinion. He couldn't stand the way Bill simply laid down and took it. Bill typically had an authority problem, and didn't listen to anyone, but it was on this one point that he yielded every time.   
Tom's mind spun in these circles until they reached home. By this point, his anger had developed into simmering reticence and he could feel the tension culminating between them. Their spat after the board meeting was small compared to some of their other blowouts and Tom had a feeling the storm had only begun.   
They had little time before they had to leave once more for the press conference and Tom felt ill-prepared to face the cameras again. They would be announcing the release of the Humanoid album and after this, there would be little private time around promotion, and then touring. It was the price of being a rockstar, Tom supposed, but even rockstars had the right to be happy, didn't they?   
They trudged inside and Tom could sense Bill building up the courage to say something.   
“I'm sorry.” He said at last. They had come to a halt in the kitchen and Tom went to sink, leaning heavily on the counter. He could seen Bill's reflection in the windowpane and he tore his eyes from the distraught image. He turned on the faucet and drank directly from the spigot before splashing some on his face. He felt like he needed a couple of ice, cold buckets dumped on him to snap him out of this sudden haze of unhappiness and discontent.   
He stilled when he felt Bill's arms wind around his waist. “I'm sorry.” Bill repeated, placing soft kisses across Tom's broad shoulders.   
Tom sighed and cranked off the water. They stood in silence before Tom whispered, “I just want what every person wants.”  
“I know.” Bill's voice was strangled. “But this is what we signed up for. We knew from the beginning...” His voice trailed away and Tom turned about in Bill's arms to face him.   
“I don't understand how you can just stand there.” Tom returned, his own tone battered by emotion. He didn't want to argue about this, but he didn't want to cry about it even more. He strengthened his voice, “I don't get how you just let them walk all over you.”  
“I don't.” Bill pulled his arms back, his dark brows furrowing.   
“You do though!” Tom threw up his hands. “Since when do we listen to them? When have we ever obeyed authority?”  
“Its not middle school, Tom.” Bill returned sharply, his eyes glossed with a sheen of angry tears. “It's not the fucking principles office. This is life! And this is how we chose to live it.”  
“I never wanted to choose this.” Tom stabbed a finger at the ground.   
“Choose what?” Bill demanded. “Me? Is that what you mean, Tom?”  
“No.” Tom denied quickly, far too quickly.  
“If I have ever 'obeyed authority' it was for us!” Bill jabbed a finger at Tom's chest. “I let them boss me around because I don't want to lose you! And now... you don't even want it?”  
“That's not what I said.” Tom cried. “I have bent over fucking backwards to keep this a secret! I have given my reputation for you. I have given everything just to be with you! And what have you given? Nothing, Bill! That's the answer, because you will always be the sweet, innocent angel! You will always be the pure, virginal Bill.” Tom spat the words, not even sure when they had begun insulting instead of apologizing.   
“You took my virginity, Tom.” Bill returned with vehemence that was accompanied by outraged tears. “That's what I've given. You are the only person I have ever loved, the only person I have ever been with. I have poured my heart and soul into this relationship, everything I have!” Twin tears fled down his cheeks, his face twisted in the most horrible agony. “I have fought to be with you, and I will never stop fighting.”  
“I don't see you fighting so hard.” Tom condemned, pushing past Bill as he stalked towards the stairs. Bill came after him, grabbing him by the arm, forcefully. His nails bit into Tom's arm as he dragged him around. He slammed him up against the wall, his palms planted on Tom's chest.   
“Is this fighting?” Bill demanded. “Because all I see is you walking away.”  
Tom grabbed Bill's wrists and flipped them around, using his considerable strength advantage to put Bill against the wall, pinning his hands beside his head. “You want to fight?” Tom asked, crushing Bill's thinner frame between himself and the wall. Their heavy, angry breaths blasted against each other's mouths and their eyes were bare inches apart.   
“No.” Bill said, his voice low, his eyes flashing with fire, “I want to fuck.”  
Tom narrowed his eyes. “You want me to fuck you right now?” Without waiting for an answer he dragged Bill away from the wall and threw his down on the stairs on his hands and knees. He reached around him and tore his pants open, growling in his ear. “I'll fuck you, Bill. I'll fuck you so hard that when you limp into that press conference everyone will know who you belong to.” He yanked Bill's pants down forcefully and left him there on the stairs as he retrieved the lube from its hiding place in a small drawer in the kitchen. He stormed back to the stairs and and knelt down behind him, working his own pants open. He uncapped the lube and lathered it over his fingers. He was shaking with rage and desire, a deadly combination, but one that Bill had most certainly asked for.   
He stabbed a finger into Bill's entrance and Bill's back arched immediately, black and white dreads washing over the pale flesh. The tight heat clamped down on Tom's finger and he pressed it back and forth, quickly destroying resistance with a skilled hand. He pushed in a second without waiting for Bill to completely open to the first, causing a whine to rise from his brother's lips.   
“This is how you asked for it.” Tom growled in his ear, twining his fingers around tightly knotted ropes of hair and giving a firm yank. “And this is how you're gonna get it.”   
“Tom...” Bill's voice was on the note of a whimper, but in Tom's mind, he didn't have the right to complain. The steadily pumped two fingers inside him, twisting them fiercely, and battering Bill's prostate with firm, blunt-tipped fingers.   
“Tomi!” Bill's voice rose louder and he began to squirm. His knees slid farther apart on the stairs, spreading his pale thighs farther apart. His tight, round ass arched up towards Tom as he ducked his head down, trying to escape Tom's harsh grip on his dreads that was wounding his sensitive scalp.   
“No, stay right here.” Tom snapped, giving his hair another pull. Bill cried out but rose back up, his head tilted fully back.   
Tom fit a third finger into Bill's hole, stretching him now. He gave him no time to adjust as he ground his fingers at an even faster, harder rate. Bill's body struggled to accept the sudden intrusions, quivering and spasming around Tom's fingers. Tom pushed his last finger in and Bill's shrill cry rang off the walls of the narrow staircase. He thrashed against the stairs, his fingers clawing along the hardwood.   
“Tom!” His voice twisted in a gamet of emotions that Tom did not bother to discern. At this point, he didn't really care what Bill was feeling. He was proving a point that Bill was going to accept sooner or later.   
“You want my cock, Bill?” Tom growled. “You want my fucking cock?”  
“Yes!” Bill snapped back, hoarsely. “I want your fucking, goddamn cock!”  
Tom slammed his fingers in again, demanding, “You want it hard?”  
Bill's voice was trembling with anger and spitefulness when he returned, “Yes, I want it to fucking hurt like hell!”  
“You better be careful what you wish for.” Tom advised in a low tone as he pulled his fingers back. “Because you just might get it.” He leaned back and grabbed the lube, swiftly covering his cock in the clear, cool liquid. He grabbed Bill by the hips and pulled him into line with cock before plunging into him with well-placed, forceful aim. Bill arched upon the stairs, a ragged cry leaving his lips as Tom sank all the way in to the hilt on the first thrust, reaching farther than his fingers to the core of his tight, quivering body.   
“You're gonna get it.” Tom rasped in his ear, pulling back to deliver another punishing penetration. He reached up to grab onto Bill's dreads again, his fingers squeezing tightly around the thick strands of hair. Bill moaned in response, quickly leaning back to relieve the pressure on his scalp. Tom didn't give him a moment's respite; he clamped his hand down on Bill's hip and began a driving pace. His hips smacked against Bill's ass, loud in the otherwise silence of the house. Their breaths rushed in angry hisses from between clenched teeth, synchronizing in an tumultuous melody.   
Tom slammed into Bill as hard as he could, fucking him into the stairs until Bill's stance was destroyed, his legs driven apart, one knee askew from the stair. He kept his mouth clamped shut, despite the fact that each thrust felt as if Tom's cock were tearing him apart inside.   
“How do you like it now?” Tom sneered in his ear, giving Bill's hair a tug. His palm was sweaty against the knotted locks and his whole body was awash in heat from both anger and desire.   
“I like it!” Bill returned, his voice shaking with emotion, powered by vehement wrath.   
Tom growled indiscernibly, his hips rocketing against Bill's ass. He lowered his head, focused solely on coming now. He labored over Bill's prostrate body, rolling and thrusting his hips until he felt his stomach growing tight. His hips slowed to determined, forceful thrusts until he exploded inside Bill. He felt his twin shudder beneath him, his muscles drawing tight around Tom's cock, squeezing the last of his arousal from him as he came, spilling onto the stairs.   
Tom drew back, extricating his now flaccid cock from Bill's red, raw entrance. He grasped at the railing, his strength nearly taken from him in the rush of insane anger and desire.   
Bill moved slowly, turning over with a wince. His face was pained and Tom could see a sheen of tears in his eyes. For the first time in the whole encounter, Tom felt a hint of remorse.   
“Congratulations.” Bill said, his voice husky, as he lifted his chin. “You're still the best fuck in the world.” He rose slowly from the stairs and Tom found himself quiet, all his words used up, useless in the face of Bill's cold disdain. “One thing you're still good at.” Bill added, yanking his pants up around his waist. He bit at his quivering lower lip, his nostrils flaring as a fresh wave of tears welled up in his eyes. He appeared about to say something more, but he turned and made his way slowly up the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing.   
Tom stared after him. He wasn't sure what he had just done, wasn't sure whether he could repair the damage. All he knew was that he had fucked up, and he had fucked up big time.

~

Bill wasn't entirely sure why he had provoked Tom into screwing the life out of him. There had probably been an easier, less painful way to end the argument. He supposed that a part of him still longed for their connection even in the midst of anger.   
It was routine for them to argue. God knew it happened more often than Bill would like. It had become even more recent in the past year and Bill knew they were both wearing themselves thin putting up a lie for everyone to believe. When he was younger, he hadn't thought that it would be so hard, but rising fame was accompanied by disintegrating privacy. Bill knew that they should be leaning on each other for strength instead of fighting it out like a couple of mad dogs, but sometimes he couldn't stop the deluge of anger. Sometimes, it was just a relief when it all finally came flooding out after weeks of buildup.   
Bill sequestered himself in his room and found some pain reliever. He inspected himself, not in the least surprised to find a few bright spots of blood on his fingertips. He had come to a point before where he said that this was their worst fight, but tonight's argument probably topped them all.   
Bill threw himself into finding a suitable outfit, but his attention was torn. He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. More than anything, he was to fall into a pool of tears, crawl in bed with a box of Kleenexes and never come out. He couldn't do that, however; he had responsibilities and more than a little self respect.   
When he deemed himself presentable, he went downstairs to find Tom. The house, however, was empty except for the dogs. His little dackels scurried around his feet, panting and wagging their tails for attention. Bill leaned down to scratch behind their ears for a moment before he found a note on the counter. It was in Tom's handwriting, stating that he had taken his own car to the press conference. Bill sighed and leaned heavily on the counter. The words of the note blurred before his eyes and he pressed them shut. Tom was pulling away from him, probably because he felt that the whole thing was his fault, but Bill knew the truth. He was just as much to blame.   
When Bill arrived at the press conference, he was greeted by security that ushered to a backroom where they were prepped on questions and answers.   
Tom avoided Bill's gaze and sat in a chair with his arms folded, eyes on the ground.   
The ensuing press conference came off as strained and uncomfortable with the twins sitting side by side but hardly interacting. Tom hardly spoke a word and Bill did most of the talking, if not all of it.   
Afterwards, Tom stormed off the stage and Bill followed, afraid of how his behavior might be interpreted by the media, especially with the new album coming out. He could only imagine the Bild headlines, proclaiming that Tom was ready to quit the band or some shit like that. The only thing that Tom seemed ready to quit right now was Bill, and Bill wasn't even sure he wanted that. Typically, the twins could read each other's mind like an open book, but now it seemed like Tom's thought were in a foreign language, far, far away from Bill's understanding.   
“Well, that went over well.” Jost stated, sarcastically as he shut the door of the back room behind him, locking the three of them in.   
“We did what you wanted, didn't we?” Tom asked, angrily. He was standing against the wall, his arms folded, eyes dark.   
“Kind of the exact opposite. What happened?” Jost asked.  
Bill wanted to spit out that Tom had basically raped the life out of his ass before they had arrived and that was what had Tom's boxers in a knot, but he pressed his lips together and remained quiet.  
“All you need to know is that there was no twincest moments involved.” Tom snapped, surging away from the wall. “Since when is it your fucking business anyways?”  
“Tom.” Bill snapped, shocked and angry that Tom was now taking out his frustration on their long time friend and confidant.   
“What?” Tom turned his blazing eyes on Bill. “Why did we even let him in on this in the first place?”  
“We owe him a lot.” Bill returned, stabbing a finger in Jost's direction.   
“My ass.” Tom retorted. “I don't owe anybody anything.”  
“Look,” Jost said, stepping in, “Whatever is going on here, you two need to work it out. I'm not just a friend. I'm a colleague, and I'm telling you, you can't let this affect the band.”  
Tom surged towards Jost, and Tom knew the look that Tom had in his eye. He was ready to fight. Bill jumped in between the two, flinging his arm across Tom's chest to hold him back.  
“You get out of my face, Jost!” Tom snarled, bucking against Bill's hold.  
Jost backed up a step, but Bill could see he was angry.   
“Tom, stop it.” Bill ordered.  
“I've kept your little secret.” Jost returned, pointing his finger back and forth at the twins. “I think I deserve a little more than this.”  
“We're going home.” Bill cut in, dragging Tom back.   
Jost shook his head and stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.   
“That's great, Tom.” Bill said, releasing him with a shove. “You've just managed to alienate the only person who knows our secret.”  
“Shut the fuck up, Bill.” Tom snapped, grabbed his coat and heading towards the door.  
“Or what?” Bill asked. “You're gonna rape me again?”   
Tom spun around, his eyes spitting fire. “Rape? That's not what I fucking did, Bill, and you know it. So don't accuse me of it ever again.” He grabbed the door handle and marched out, his shoulders drawn tight with anger. Bill felt his own shoulders slump and he covered his face with both hands. Wrong thing to say, he berated himself, totally wrong thing to say.

~

There were few precious days left before promotion was starting and Bill was hoping that by that time, their fight would be over. Tom, however, was refusing to speak about anything that had happened the day of the press conference and Bill knew they would never be able to get past it if they didn't.   
Two days later, they were driving back from the studio where they had begun discussing singles when Bill decided to approach the topic.   
“I think we should talk.” He stated. He knew it was the worst thing ever to heard, but it was all he could think to say.  
“About what?” Tom grunted from the passenger seat, where he was slouched, looking out the window.   
“You know.” Bill said, without even looking at him.   
Tom was silent and Bill sighed. Even if this conversation ended up being one-sided, there were things that needed to be said.   
“We haven't... since then.” He added at last. Bill had spent the past two nights in his own bedroom, in a cold, empty bed. Usually the slept together, in Tom's bed, but neither of them had seemed comfortable with that prospect the past few days. Subsequently, Tom hadn't laid a finger on him since the attack on the stairs.   
Again, Tom didn't say anything in return and Bill pushed out, “I want what you want too, Tom, but its not going to happen in this life or the next. We knew that when he started this.”  
“This.” Tom spat suddenly, sitting up straight in his seat. Bill glanced over, caught a look at his angry expression and looked back at the road. “This.” Tom repeated. “This is my life, Bill. You are my life and somehow I have to explain that to everyone.” He made a wild hand motion and Bill could feel his anger radiating off of him. He gripped the steering wheel and clenched his jaw against emotion. It wasn't fair at all, but it was just how it had to be.   
“I know.” Bill said quietly. “But I have worked so hard for this, for everything that we have.”  
“And so have I.” Tom returned. “I've made up lies about myself just to ensure our safety. I've fucked every girl in the country to make sure that we stay under the radar!”   
Bill flinched and felt tears in his eyes. He pushed them back and lifted his chin. “I lie just as much as you, Tom. We have both done our fair share.”  
“What if I'm sick of doing my share? What if I want a relationship just like every other normal, human being?” Tom questioned, his voice rising, before lowering back to a whisper. “I'm sick of hiding.”  
There was silence in the car with only the sound of the tires on the road to fill the dead air. At last Bill spoke, his voice quiet, “You've always been enough for me, Tom, and I thought I was always enough for you.”   
Their drive way came into view and Bill pulled in. He shoved the gear into park and they sat side by side for a moment before Tom pushed the car door open and got out, flinging the door shut behind him.  
Bill watched from the car as Tom stalked angrily into the house. Bill could almost hear the front door slam from where he sat and he remained in the car, staring brokenly at the dash.   
He could no longer put a finger on where this had all begun and he couldn't point in either of their directions. The blame lay somewhere in the gray, in a smoky area that Bill could not discern.   
He wanted their relationship back the way it had been, but he didn't know how to tell Tom that he couldn't completely have what he wanted. There wasn't a scenario in which they showed themselves to the public and escaped with their own reputations or the band's in tact. It would be the end of Tokio Hotel and life as they knew it, and Bill would not let that happen. Tom would always be first to him, but he could not sacrifice his life's work, even for his brother.  
Suddenly overwhelmed, Bill fought back a deluge of tears. He gripped the steering wheel tightly in his hands and gasped against the flood of emotion working its way up his chest, and sprouting up in his eyes. He knew that weakness would never help him achieve a goddamn thing, but for a moment he was too overwrought to gather up his courage. At last, after several choked sobs, he brushed the tears from his eyes and checked the mirror to ensure that his makeup was not too terribly smeared. He shoved the car door open and walked up to the house, staring at his boot-clad feet. He entered quietly, deciding that it was best for Tom to be alone at the moment. He just needed time to cool down and think.  
Bill trudged up the stairs, throwing his bag on the kitchen counter on his way up. He was about to resort to the childhood tactic of putting on his pajamas and diving under the covers when he noticed Tom's door slightly ajar. Bill paused, telling himself to go to his room and leave Tom alone when a muffled moan floated through the tiny crack. Bill jumped, his breath catching in his throat. He froze where he was, his ears straining. When he heard it again he stepped slowly up to the door and peeked inside. His heart began to race when his wide eyes found Tom inside, sprawled out on his bed. His pants were opened, his boxers pushed hurriedly away. His cock rose from the folds of material, encircled by Tom's tightly clenched fist. His head was tilted back slightly, the tendons in his neck standing out. His skin was flushed and Bill wondered how long he had been at it. He wondered if he had been touching himself while Bill had wept in the car and the thought made him angry all over again. He spun away, disgusted by how shallow his brother could be, intending to march to his room. He cracked his elbow against the doorframe and gasped in pain. In the next second, he became terrified, knowing that the loud sound had no doubt alerted Tom of his presence. Cradling his elbow in his opposite palm, Bill dashed away from the door, but not before he heard the creak of the bed and Tom's feet hitting the floor.  
Shit! Bill shoved his room door open and glanced behind him to see Tom striding after him.  
“Bill, what are you doing?” He snapped. Knowing he was caught, Bill sighed and crossed his arms.  
“What are you doing?” He returned.  
“What does it look like?” Tom's eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring slightly. “And I think I know what you were just doing too.”  
Bill looked away. He rolled his eyes, pretending to be nonchalant. “Oh, Tom, get over yourself.”  
Tom's brow arched high on his forehead and he stepped closer, his eyes darkening. Bill swallowed hard, wanting very badly to take a step backward for every one that Tom made forward.   
“You want some of this?” Tom asked, his voice low. He slid one hand down to his pants that were still open, hanging precariously on his hips. His hitched up the hem of his shirt and drew the down the waistband of his boxers until Bill could see the hard, leaking tip.   
The sight flustered Bill, scaring and arousing him in the same moment. He did not want a repeat of their pre press conference argument. If he hadn't been so overwhelmed, he would've been angry that Tom was threatening him like this again.   
Tom stepped closer and this time, Bill took a haltingly step backwards.   
“Tom...” It came out in a whine, pathetic and weak.  
Tom lunged upon him, catching him by the back of the neck and hauling him closer until their noses were bare inches apart.   
“Tom, please!” Bill cried out, his hands fisting in Tom's t-shirt, pushing back against Tom's greater weight.   
“Please what?” Tom asked, but his voice was soft now, his other hand tracing over Bill's cheek.  
Bill blinked quickly, his lips parting, quivering, trying to speak.   
“Please, not again.” He whispered at last, the words rushing out haltingly.  
Tom hardly flinched, his brown eyes only flickering. His grip tightened on the back of Bill's neck and he pressed his body closer, lining up the hard, muscular length of his body along Bill's slimmer, more frail one.   
“No.” He said slowly. “Not down there.” His head canted down slightly before he slid his hand over to Bill's mouth, rubbing his thumb over the full, lower lip. “Right here.” He said, his voice lower and husky.   
Bill couldn't say anything, whether to protest or to agree. He was thrown completely off his guard, unprepared to handle Tom's sexual advances and subsequent assaults.   
Tom pushed Bill into the room, backing them up until the were near the bed before he tightened his grip on Bill's neck. “Get down.” He ordered, dragging Bill to the floor by his hair. Bill sank quickly with little resistance. His mind all the while was screaming, telling him what a bad idea this was when they were both still upset with one another, but Bill just couldn't listen. Even the slight ache in his ass didn't stop him from yielding in a few short seconds.   
Tom tore his boxers back from his cock again, freeing the throbbing flesh. He dragged Bill close, his other hand guiding his cock to Bill's lips.   
“Open up, baby.” He murmured in low tones, his eyes flashing with desire as Bill parted his lips. He pulled Bill's mouth down on his cock and Bill moaned immediately at the hot, hard flesh sank in deep. He sucked, breathing desperately through his nose when Tom gave him little time to adjust. He could feel two day's worth of built up tension channeling from Tom in the rough thrusts he began to perform.   
Tom twined his fingers in Bill's dreads and palmed Bill's cheek with the other hands, using his grip to hold Bill in place as he began to push his cock in and out. Bill grasped at Tom's hips, holding on tightly as Tom rocked into his mouth. He pressed in deeper and deeper with each thrust until Tom was rasping, “Swallow me, baby.” He panted urgently, his hips slowling as he pulled Bill closer. Bill fought it for a few seconds before he gave in and relaxed his throat, allowing Tom's tip to invade. Tom gasped and grappled with the edge of the bed to support himself, panting out expletives as Bill began to work his throat against him.  
Bill glanced up at Tom and found his brother weak under such intense pleasuring. He inched in closer and sucked him down harder, eager now to turn the tables instead of simply caving to Tom's advances. Tom wailed, his fingers tearing at Bill's dreads until it hurt, but Bill did not back down. He reached up and palmed Tom's testicles, handling them with a rough caress. Tom lapsed back against the bed, moaning. His head was tilted back, revealing the length of his beautiful, perspiring neck. His hips moved weakly against Bill as he let out a string of curses, punctuated by Bill's name.   
Bill stroked his middle finger back behind Tom's testicles, over his perineum and then his tight hole. Tom arched off the bed, crying out raggedly. Bill could feel him swelling in his mouth and let him slide out, sucking and licking over the tip until he felt cum explode against his tongue. He sealed his lips around him and swallowed it all down. He swiped his tongue one last time over Tom's head before he drew back.   
Tom sank back against the bed on his back, his arms laid out on either side of him. His broad chest rose and fell quickly in tandem with his wildly beating heart.   
Bill rose from the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Am I enough for you now?” He questioned in a low tone, his voice rough from the deep-throat. He crossed his arms and kicked Tom's foot.   
Tom sat up slowly, not meeting Bill's eyes. He pulled his clothes back together slowly.   
“Huh?” Bill asked, leaning down to get in Tom's face. “Am I?”  
Tom let out a disgusted noise and stood from the bed, pushing Bill away.   
“Don't walk away from me.” Bill demanded, but his voice was quavering.  
“I wouldn't leave you.” Tom spun around, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn't. Ever.”  
Bill sputtered for a moment. He couldn't think of anything else to say, and he didn't know whether he was angry or just distraught anymore.  
“You're the only person I've ever loved.” Tom said at last. His breathing was heavy and his brows were drawn and Bill could almost see moisture in his eyes.   
“Then why are we fighting?” Bill asked quietly.   
“Because they want you, Bill!” Tom threw a hand out, “They all want a piece of you and maybe they're getting it. Maybe I don't like it because you're mine!” Tom jabbed a finger at his chest, his eyes flashing wildly.   
“Is that what this is about?” Bill asked, his voice only in a whisper.   
Tom sighed and looked away, as if he had said too much, but then he returned in a quiet tone, “Sometimes I feel like everyone but me has you. The producers have you for meetings, the band has you for recordings, the fans have you for concerts and... the rest of the world has you just because the goddamn vultures can't keep their noses out. You're all divided up into little pieces and I want you – all of you.” Tom drew in a sharp breath and this time Bill could see the fresh tears well in his eyes.   
He couldn't exactly explain how Tom's words made him feel, but it was something like a sharp pang of love – painful but soft at the same time.   
“Tomi...” He whispered, his own voice choked. He stepped closer, and reached out a hand, his fingertip skimming over Tom's cheekbone. “No matter what I do, where I go, who I talk to... I will always be thinking of you. You're me, my other half, the thing that makes me whole. If I didn't have you...” He shook his head. “I wouldn't know what to do because there'd be something missing.”  
Tom lifted large, dark eyes to him and Bill pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him. Tom's hand lifted to his hair, stroking softly now.   
“I just love you.” Tom whispered at last. “I can't explain how you make me feel... you just... do.”  
Bill lifted his head and cupped both of Tom's cheeks in his hands. He kissed him softly on the lips and whispered, “I love you, Tomi. I would climb a mountain, walk through a thousands deserts for you.”  
Tom clung to Bill's wrists, pulling him closer. “You said you would never stop fighting. Please, don't. Please, forget what I've done the past few days. I'm sorry, really sorry.”  
“Done.” Bill nodded. “I was ready to forgive you yesterday.”  
Tom's relaxed against him, his brow smoothing. “Thank God.” He whispered. “I thought I...” He shook his head.   
“Did irreparable damage?” Bill finished. “No. Never.” He leaned in and kissed Tom's lips, lingering longer this time. Tom slackened against him, his lips parting to receive Bill's tongue. Bill moaned softly against Tom, filling his mouth with the taste of his twin. They didn't part for a few long moments, but then Tom tugged him back and stared up at him with dark, desiring eyes. “I need you.” He whispered. By the tone of his voice, Bill knew what he meant even before he whispered, “I need you to take me.”  
Bill nodded quickly. Tom almost never bottomed, only when he was feeling especially desperate or when he was weak and insecure. Bill never asked him to either, but more than willingly followed through when Tom expressed the need.   
Bill went and grabbed the lube and by the time he returned, Tom was stripped and lying out on the bed, his erection already back at half-mast. The sight sent a shiver through Bill, knowing that he was going to be sliding into Tom's tight heat in a few moments. He dropped the lube to the edge of the bed and quickly divested himself of his own clothing. When he was down to bare skin, he climbed onto the bed between Tom's legs. Their eyes met lovingly, but desperately and Bill took up the lube again, uncapping it to get his fingers wet for Tom.   
Tom pulled his legs up compliantly, leaving himself open and vulnerable to Bill's touch. Bill levered himself over Tom's body and swiped his fingers down between Tom's buttocks. He rubbed slowly over his hole until he felt some of Tom's tension dissipate, then pushed on finger forward. He breached him slowly and heard a grunt come from Tom's lips, then a quick exhale. He got his finger all the way in and paused as Tom's body clenched around the single digit. It was so wonderfully hot and tight around his finger and Bill forced himself to have self-control.   
He pumped his finger in a slow pace and Tom quickly began to squirm. Bill laid a kiss on Tom's knee, murmuring quietly, “You've got to open first, darling.”  
Tom let out a breath and bit his lower lip. “Put another one in... please.”  
Bill caressed Tom's knee with another kiss as he added more lube and slid two fingers in to the hilt. Tom grasped at the sheets, his body spasming for a moment before he accepted Bill's fingers. Bill pushed these in and out more quickly, giving his wrist a few twists until Tom was gaping for another. The third stretched him a bit, but by this time, Tom's cock was completely hard again, resting as a dusky column against his tanned stomach.   
“Please, Bill..” He whispered, his ass wriggling against Bill's hand. “Please, I'm ready.”  
“Are you?” Bill murmured, giving him a few more pumps of his hand.   
“Yes, yes.” Tom panted.   
Bill pulled his hand back, having little more control than Tom. He sat back and grabbed the lube, quickly covering himself before he leaned back over Tom. He glanced up into his brother's eyes, catching the neediness, desire, and love all wrapped up together in the brown depths, before he guided his cock to Tom's entrance. He pressed the tip there and eased forward slowly. Tom let out a low sound against Bill's quick, sharp inhale as their bodies became fused. Tom grasped as Bill's shoulders, pulling him in close as Bill slid all the way into his tight hole. Bill braced his elbows on either side of Tom's head, holding his face close to Tom's as they began to rock together. Tom's legs went around him, pulling Bill to him with each thrust.   
Their eyes stayed locked, sending silent messages. They didn't need any words after this point. What needed to be said, had already been said, and what more they could translate to each other spoke more than any language in the world could ever express.   
Bill fell apart quickly in his brother's embrace. They came together, spilling out onto each other's flesh in a synchronized expression of love before collapsing to the sheets, their limbs still intertwined. After two days of silence and miscommunication, it was a relief to hold each other like this. After all, Tom was the only one who could. No matter who happened to have Bill's attention or time at the moment, Tom would always have his heart and it counted for far more than seconds, or minutes, or even days. It counted into eternity, their eternity, that no one else could touch.   
.


End file.
